Finale Moments
by Elly Green
Summary: Based off the Season 2 finale preview and synopsis. What I think/want/needs to happen during the course of S02 E12 & E13. Mainly Mitch and Jamie. I can't wait to see what actually goes down!
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Jamie rejoined Mitch as soon as Allison had walked away. She had no idea what that woman had said to him, but considering what she'd said to her a few nights ago, she wouldn't be surprised if it was cruel. Deliberately cruel.

He looked at her as she eased back beside him. Confusion and… sadness?... were etched in the lines around his eyes and across his brow. She ached to run a thumb over the creases, soften them. The impulse shocked her. They were just, once again, behaving like adults to each other. Flirting, even. It was nice, but way too soon to be wanting more.

"What do we do now?"

Mitch looked away, glanced over the carnage all around them. He dropped his chin and shook his head. "We have to stop the NOAH objective. Even after," he lifted his eyes to hers, seizing her breath. His pain, his fear, his heartbreak; all so palatable. "This." He motioned with his head at the lobby.

"Right. How?" She tried to sound chipper. Instead, she sounded desperate.

"I have no idea." Raising a brow, the ghost of a smirk flitted across his lips. "Got any suggestions, oh toe-less wonder?" Suddenly, she wanted to laugh. There was the Mitch she knew and… Too soon.

"Yeah, kill Davies."

Jamie knew the instant her flippant response registered with him. His face lost all color. His pupils widened and his lips compressed. He stared at her at a loss for words. Sure, the thought had been bouncing around in her head since he'd had the nerve to Black Ops their plane, but she hadn't really meant to share it. It just sort of came out. She'd been surprised the idea had stayed with her for so long, actually. Especially considering how hard she had tried to revive him after Abe had, in fact, killed him.

"That's a little violent."

She sighed before answering. If he only knew. Which he didn't. Well, not anything since she'd killed Agent Shaffer. Though, he didn't even know everything about that murder. The extra three shots. She'd seen Jackson's face. Overkill. They had agreed not to tell anyone else on the team. She was violent. Very violent. Deadly. And it scared her.

"Effective." There was an edge to her voice. She pretended not to hear it.

* * *

Standing back at the airport, the empty tarmac where they had left the rest of the team that morning, faced them. A crushing blow to their psyches. They both sagged with weariness.

"I'll call Abe," he had offered, turning away and walking back toward the hangar nearby. It was the first thing he'd said to her since she'd voiced her plan. Using his IADG credentials, he'd convinced a police officer to bring them back here. Ideally to catch everyone else up on events at the embassy. Which was now a moot point, since they had been abandoned.

Returning, he shoved the phone into a pocket. "They are on the way to Pangaea. Apparently, Dr. Oz is the new Dr. Morgan. He's got a plan to save the animals."

"Ouch." She grinned, hoping to lighten his mood. The quick flick of his eyes back at her made her smile. She pushed her luck, "how does it feel to get left behind?"

"Jamie…" His face fell and she immediately regretted her words.

"I'm joking."

He shook his head at her sadly.

"Look, I know you don't want to talk about it, but there is something you need to know." He rose his hand to quiet her as she opened her mouth to protest. She did not want to rehash the past. It was a poor joke. Why did she never learn to keep her mouth shut?

"I never wanted to leave you behind. It shames me to say this, you can ask Abe, but I threw a tantrum when they ordered me back on the helicopter. Sat on the ground, crossed my arms and dared them to take me back. Abe had to drag me back home."

She wasn't expecting that confession. Not even remotely. She didn't know what to say. Reaching for his hand, she held it. They stood in silence for a long time, looking at each other.

Jamie broke the silence first. "Did I scare you? My idea." She wasn't sure why, but his answer mattered. Now, more than ever.

"A little." At least he was honest. "Then again, I spent a few hours daydreaming up 'accidents' that resulted in Logan in the freezer with the iguana." Snorting, she looked at him askance. Was he really that jealous of the bastard? "Can't blame you for wishing death and destruction on Davies. At least he's done something worthy of the idea."

So had Logan. Mitch didn't know the whole story there. And God help her, he would never find out either.

"Still, a bad idea."

"I said violent, not bad." He tipped his head as if thinking more on her cockamamie plan. "It has merit… a nice parallelism to it, considering what he's put us through. What he's about to do. What he's done." He nodded absently as he spoke. His eye glistened at the very corner, a tear threatening, only to be wiped away as he slammed his emotional door closed again.

"Killing Chloe."

"Yes, her."


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

They stood outside the IADG building as unobtrusively as possible. They last thing they wanted to do was draw attention to themselves.

"Next best idea, huh?"

Mitch rolled his eyes at Jamie. "Killing Davies, though we agreed it wasn't a bad idea, requires us to get close to him. Unless you've suddenly become a crack shot sniper. And I don't want either of us that close to the madman."

"This is it then." Straightening her shoulders, Jamie turned back towards the entrance. "We just walk in, pretend we're scientists and hope no one recognizes you."

He shrugged, a tiny smirk dancing across his lips. "It's been a while. Maybe everyone forgot about the 'man with a plan.'" Mitch yanked his hands from his pockets, bumping her shoulder as he shifted past her, he strode to the doors.

The bullet hole which had just missed Jackson a few days ago was still there. A reminder of how stupid this plan was. They would be discovered. Turned over. Mitch focused on the hole and shattered glass radiating outward, so much so, he missed the first step up to the atrium.

"Easy, fella." Jamie's hand closed gently over his bicep. His heart skipped a beat. She held him for a moment too long, causing him to turn toward her. She was looking everywhere but forward or at him. "There has got to be a better way in. A side door? Through the garage? A vent?" She was grasping at straws, but he did remember something.

"Three months ago, I exited a side door from the labs into an alley. There was an alarm warning on the door, but it was disconnected. Propped open with a small rock." Facing him, Jamie looked confused, her brow furrowed, head cocked. He elaborated, "The leopard-mother cell cure hadn't worked. I was angry. I got out of there as quick as I could. Away from everyone." He paused, the memory of that failure still painful. "I would guess a few of the employees are smokers."

"So this side door, you remember where it was?"

This time, his grin was big and infectious. She echoed it with one of her own charming grins. "I do."

As he recalled, the door was right where he'd last exited it and it was still propped open. He'd never liked people more. So predictable, even during a crisis. With a deep breath, he slipped into a back hallway. Immediately, the mingled scents of animal feces, bleach, and that unique, yet impossible to describe scent of agar-filled Petrie dishes assaulted his nose. Wrinkling it in distaste, he stepped aside, allowing Jamie to follow him inside.

Quietly, they tip-toed down the hall toward the stairwell. They needed to go down a few floors. That is where the animals would be. And, they hoped, the network for the computer system. No one intercepted them.

Stepping out onto the second lowest level of the building, they entered a main thoroughfare. Scientists, all ages and genders, walked briskly by them, conversing in small groups or singles with their noses buried in folders of reports. Not a single one looked rested. They dragged their feet, their eyes red-rimmed, their faces gaunt, expressionless.

"Zombies," Jamie whispered in his ear, one small hand on his shoulder, the other on his back.

He twisted his neck to look over his shoulder at her. "Don't even think that."

She moved back and instantly he missed the heat of her body so close. Giggling, she pressed her face into his blazer to muffle the noise.

"We need disguises."

Blindly grasping behind him, he sought her hand. He entwined his fingers with hers and hauled her out into the stream of lab rats. They took about a dozen long strides before he nonchalantly slammed his other hand down on a door handle. It was unlocked. He cocked his eyebrows at her as he threw open the door and shoved her inside. Jamie had just enough time to read the tiny sign beside the door. Locker Room.

The line of metal lockers and small wooden benches brought him back to high school gym class. Not a fond memory. He chose the first row of lockers and began walking down the line of them, testing each one. The third one opened. He grabbed the white coat from its hook and tossed it to Jamie.

She dutifully put it on. It was a bit long, but would work in a pinch. He kept going. Another five lockers down, he got lucky again. Donning his own disguise, he glanced at Jamie. Damn, she looked good. Too good, if he was being honest. Definitely not a scientist. Even with the coat on, she would stand out.

"Pull your hair back."

"What?" She frowned at him. "Why?" But still, she did as he requested and began finger combing her hair back into a loose ponytail.

He didn't answer her. Turning back to the locker he'd just robbed, he noticed a pair of tortoise-shell reading glasses on the upper shelf.

"And put these on." He tossed the glasses to her. She gamely caught them.

"Mitch, really?"

"You'll look more scientist-y." Disbelief and… what? disgust?... marred her features.

"Glasses?" He heard it in her tone. She was not amused. If only she knew. Even had an inkling. She was every science geek's dream come true. With the tendrils of hair curling around her face as she donned the glasses, he suddenly craved her. Hard. Fast. Way too much, at the absolute worse time.

Swallowing slowly, he closed his eyes for an instant, trying desperately to control this absurd rush of desire. One deep, shuddering breath. Opening his eyes, he stepped toward her, brushed a curl behind her ear and shrugged.

"Worked for Clark Kent."


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Mitch pointed subtly at the sign hung far up the wall. "This way to animal research," he leaned close to whisper in her ear. She shuddered at the feel of his breath. Warm on her skin.

"Lead the way, Doctor," she answered back. So far, so good. His plan was working.

Keeping up with his hurried strides, she stuck close at his shoulder. Already she was lost in the twists and turns of this building. Every door looked the same. She had no idea how she was going to find her way back out of here.

"Huh?" Mitch stopped suddenly and Jamie almost slammed into his back. He was staring at another random door. "Genetics." He was speaking low, barely loud enough for her to hear. Talking to himself, she realized. "You don't suppose-"

He turned the handle. It was locked. Moving away from her, he looked back up and down the hall. There were maybe three scientists around them, all of them quickly disappearing around distant curves. They were alone.

"Find something to break the window," he hissed. Jamie glanced from him to the door.

"Right." She trotted away. Whatever he was thinking, she was willing to go with it. She needed no reason besides it being him. He had proven many times over just how brilliant he was.

She was back in a few minutes, carrying a long metal pole, not unlike those used for hanging saline bags.

"Couldn't find something less conspicuous?" he teased her, holding his hand out for the pole.

She pulled it out of his reach and rolled her eyes at him. "Want me to keep looking?"

"No," he conceded. "Let me know if someone's coming." Nodding, Jamie grinned and stepped away from him, into the middle of the hallway. She looked left and right.

"All clear."

"This is going to be loud."

"Just do it."

The crash of breaking glass, as predicted, was loud. She held her breath and counted. No running footsteps. No screaming. She waited. Nothing they had done in the last year had ever gone so well. It was frightening.

"Where is everyone?"

"Are you trying to jinx me?"

"Just hurry." Mumbling about broken glass and tender wrists, he grunted once, then exhaled heavily. She spun back around as she heard the click of the lock release and the almost silent whoosh of air as he opened the door.

"You first," he offered gallantly, stepping aside so she could enter. The room beckoned with an eerie, almost crystalline light. Jamie entered, then stopped. His hand touched the small of her back as he shifted her forward, allowing the door to close behind him.

"Wow. That is a lot of test tubes."

She whistled low at the dazzling sight. Hundreds of thousands upon hundreds of thousands of test tubes sat in stands stacked one atop another in multiple cabinets set against all four walls. Each cabinet hummed. She reached out and touched one, almost reverently. Its glass door cold on her fingers. Refrigerated.

"What are these?" she mused aloud.

Mitch ignored her. Moving beside her, he spun in place, taking in the whole room. His fingers twitched at his sides, his lips silently moving. She watched him. Waited for him to return from wherever he was, whatever he was looking at and thinking about.

"But not nearly enough."

Her brow rose and she bit her lower lip gently in confusion. "Uh?"

All at once, blinking rapidly, he seemed to remember she was standing in the room with him. "There aren't enough test tubes."

"Enough?"

"This has got to be the collection of DNA gathered for the NOAH objective. All the animals they are going to repopulate the world with." He stepped closer to one of the cabinets and yanked on the handle. It was locked. Banging his fist against the door, he cursed softly. Then, raising his head, he swiped at the glass door, rubbing the thin layer of frost away. He squinted through the glass at the closest row of tubes.

"Rangifer, Rattus, Rhombomys, Rousettus…"

"Mitch?"

"There are 5,000 animal species in the world. Amphibians, about 5,400. Add in insects and you have a million more species. And there are still millions of invertebrates. World estimates are at about eight million species. Probably more."

"Okay. And?"

"This should be a much larger room."

"Oh."

He swung around on her, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her slightly. The wild-eyed look in his eyes both scared and excited her. This was a new Mitch to her. No longer the emotionally-deficient and sarcastic college professor or the reluctant, greatness thrusted-upon man. Here was the savior of the world. "They've collected the genera, not species. Your speech to the Russian delegate about 90% of plant life dying? Well, this is only about 10% of the animals currently in the world."

Letting go of her, he began pacing the tiny room. He swung his arms wide encompassing the roomful of tubes. "This is literally Noah's Ark. Only a handful of animals to recreate a world devoid of animal life. It won't take decades, it will take millennia to rebuild this planet."

Jamie gasped. Shaking her head, she stared at the floor and took a few steadying deep breaths. Dizziness threatened.

"We're screwed."


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Sitting with his knees bent, his back against one of the refrigerated cabinets, head between his knees, Mitch felt like hell. He wanted a drink. A strong one.

He'd known General Davies was crazy, he just hadn't realized how far the insanity went. The scientists all over this place - the innumerous geneticists working under him, under the banner of IADG - they had to know what they were proposing, what they were promising was all a lie. Still, they kept at it, kept trudging away towards the goal of complete animal annihilation. In less than 48 hours. The entire planet - the animals, the 2.2 million people with the triple helix, and then even those who survived the gas - were all doomed. Not a soul was going to survive his ludicrous plan.

Across the room, Jamie sat against the door. She was staring at him. No. Through him. No doubt, the same conclusion had come to her.

She was going to die. Clementine was going to die. Audra and Justin, too. His new friends. Everyone was going to perish. The pain of that inevitability hit him hard, right in the gut. And he believed he had the solution. Jamie had once mentioned how naive she'd been, but she wasn't the only one.

Removing his glasses, he placed them on the tile floor and rubbed his palms over his face, massaged his temples.

"What are we going to do?" Her voice was soft with raw angst. He heard the despair and winced. He retrieved his glasses and set them back on the bridge of his nose.

"Follow the plan."

She slammed her hands to the floor and thrust her head forward, an angry glare focused solely on Mitch. "But why?" She shoved off the tiles and rose to her feet. "Why?" She was yelling. "There is nothing we can do! We can't stop this!" He wanted to calm her down, tell her to lower her voice, but he couldn't. He felt the same way. Still, he had been placed in charge of this rag-tag group of would-be world curers and at the moment, she was the only one of his group with him.

"Because it's what we do." A jaunty grin and tip of his head accompanied his statement. It was false bravado. A lie. He hoped she believed him anyway.

Jamie paused in her ranting. She dropped her hands to her side, her chest heaving with a thousand more words to say, left unsaid. He watched her cautiously. She was righteous fury. A flame-haired beauty on a mission - just like the first time they'd met. He was both impressed and terrified. Finally, her shoulders dropped and he exhaled the breath he was holding. Then, suddenly, she was laughing.

"Did you really just answer 'why?' with 'because'? That is very fatherly of you."

He rose to join her, her laughter infectious. The moment had passed, the fear of failure once again shoved aside. They had already come so far. Been through so much. Done the impossible. They would succeed. Against all odds.

Mitch moved to embrace her in a hug. For a man who had denied personal contact for most of his life, he was discovering he rather enjoyed holding onto her.

"Jamie-" he began, then paused. He covered her mouth with his palm. Someone was coming.

The echo of rubber soled footsteps grew closer. Louder. They were heavy, military in their regularity. A guard. In the back of Mitch's mind, the part of it he just couldn't shut off, he remembered the broken glass of the door's window. Most of the shards had fallen inside the room, but the glass in the window frame was still sharp and ragged. It would be noticed.

He pulled away from her.

"We have to go."

He didn't wait for her answer, instead grabbing her wrist in his fist and yanking her out through the door, flicking the room's light off so as not to draw any more attention towards it or the broken glass. Pulling her alongside him into and down the hallway, he bowed his head to hers as he began gibbering on about the first scientific thing he could think of. The guard rounded the corner and walked straight toward them. Mitch tried not to look. Rambling on, he prayed to whoever was listening upstairs that the guard just kept moving.

For maybe the second time in his life, his prayer was answered. Without hesitation, the guard passed both them and the room full of test tubes.

"So, I guess we're back to the plan, huh?

"Yeah." He tossed her a roguish grin. "Come on."

* * *

The clamor of caged, crazed animals met them at the crossroads of four hallways. It was deafening in its intensity.

"Animal research?" Jamie guessed, turning toward the sound.

"This is where we part ways." Mitch didn't look at her as he said it. "I'll release the test animals, you'll go crash the network."

Sounded simple enough.

"I'm beginning to have second thoughts about the plan. Are you sure about this?" She was nothing if not stubborn. And they weren't second thoughts. They had been over this part of the plan a number of times, neither one of them totally on board with leaving each other. But, in order for this to work, everything had to happen at once. He knew she didn't agree. Knew she had to be scared she'd be abandoned again. Left behind to fend for herself.

"Not at all."

"That's an uplifting thought." She was chewing on her bottom lip, her hand clutching his arm as he turned away from her to glance down the hall towards the research labs.

He looked back at her. "Dr. Mitch Morgan, as advertised."

She met his eyes at that, a smile tugging at her lips. Letting go of his arm, she punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Think I prefer the 'Totally Awesome Scientist'." His throat constricted. It was a friendly, flirtatious gesture. Simple. Pure.

"Okay." He had to force himself to breathe. To calm his wildly beating heart. He cleared his throat harshly. "I can do that. 'In theory, yes, this should work.'" One eyebrow lifted with his words.

"Better." Her smile widened, brightening her entire face.

And then he smiled back.

If this was going to be the last time he saw her. If in some horrible twist of fate, they didn't survive. He was glad this was how they would remember each other.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Jamie waited by the restrooms. She was getting worried. Did no one have to use the bathroom today?

At last, someone, a bespeckled, balding man, popped out a door halfway down the hall she was facing. She turned away as he approached, leaning over the water fountain to take a drink. He walked past her, mumbling something about pheromones, and into the men's room.

She sure hoped he was going to do more than pee. The last thing she needed was him returning too soon. Sprinting as casually as she could to the room he'd just exited, she slipped inside, made sure she was alone, flicked the lock on the door, and then sighed in joy as she saw the computer.

Opening her email client on the laptop sitting abandoned on top of the lab counter, various scientific notes, journals, and scribblings scattered on coffee-stained papers all around, she ignored the long list of new emails and clicked over to her spam folder. She scrolled quickly down the list until she found the one she was looking for. Considering the damage this one email had caused the newspaper a year and a half ago, she hoped the government servers weren't any better protected.

Selecting the email, she opened it and then toggled back to the other screen where the scientist had left his own email account open. Copying his address, she forwarded the spam email back to him. When the laptop chimed, she jumped. She opened the email, clicked the link, then closed both windows, slamming the laptop closed.

"Please work," she prayed.

Now to find the servers.

* * *

The Captain sitting outside General Davies office signed onto his computer. General Davies would be back any moment and he'd called ahead to have the most recent report on the new formula of TX-14 gas ready for him. The computer hummed, then flickered.

"What the hell?"

The loading page went from black to blue, then back to black. It flickered again, then started strobing black, white, and blue.

Pushing his chair back from the desk, the soldier stood and gave the computer a wide berth as he stepped out of the offices and across the hall to the command center. Every computer there was doing the exact same thing. The room - usually loud - was dead silent as everyone glanced at each other, unsaid questions in their eyes and on their lips. Fingers hovered above keyboards.

"Sergeant," he stopped the man closest to him, "what is going on here?"

"No idea, sir."

Across the room, a young woman, a private, stood abruptly, drawing the entire room's attention. "It appears to be a virus."

"A computer virus?" the Captain asked.

"Yes, sir."

"And…"

"We are dark. The entire network is down."

* * *

Mitch stood in the lab looking through the wired glass wall into the kennel. Various animals, from mammals to reptiles, paced, squealed, screamed, and hissed from behind their bars at him. His gaze shifted and he took in the collection of aquariums on the left. Some were filled with water, some with sand. All contained animals looking to attack him. It was disheartening, especially the school of goldfish.

He sure hoped Jamie was having better luck.

The door before him was locked. There was no way to break into the kennel. Releasing the animals now seemed impossible.

Suddenly, from behind him, he heard the lab's door click open. He turned around and shrugged sheepishly at the intruder.

"Uh. Hello?"

"Seems I forgot my key," Mitch dead-panned.

"And you are?"

Taking a step forward, hating what he was going to have to do, he fumbled in the pockets of his lab coat. "Well, I had a badge here somewhere."

The technician, a young man in his mid-twenties, chuckled. "I lose mine all the time. Stupid clip breaks every week."

Planting his feet firmly, about shoulder-width apart, just like Abe had taught him, Mitch shrugged again, then before he could think too much about it, drew back his arm and slugged the young man. The man's chin swung up and back, his eyes rolling back in his skull as he grunted in pain, then slunk in slow-motion to the floor in a heap, already unconscious. Cradling his fist in his opposite palm - damn, that hurt more when he wasn't drunk - he bent to the floor and grabbed the man's legs, dragging him away from the door. He flexed his fingers, cringing when two cracked, and rifled through the young man's clothes, finally finding a set of keys.

Maybe it was his lucky day after all.

He stood and approached the door to the kennels. He hoped Jamie was somewhere safe because he was about to unleash hell.

* * *

General Davies stormed into the command center, his face red with anger.

"What the hell is happening here?"

Every computer terminal was off. A handful of old TVs were set up around the space, soldiers gathered around them, speaking in quick static-y bursts into hand-held radios. The screens were rotating fuzzy video pictures from all over the IADG headquarters.

The Captain stepped away from one of the TVs and took a deep breath as he walked over to the General.

"The computers are down, sir. A virus has wiped the system. As soon as we can get the techs up here, we'll see what we can recover."

"How?"

"Private Lewis," he waved to a young woman across the room, "traced it back to a scientist's laptop in chemistry before we completely lost the system."

General Davies had calmed slightly at the news. His hands were still fisted, his knuckles white with rage, but his face had returned to normal color. The Captain took another breath.

"And these TVs?" the General opened one fist to sweep it around the room.

"The security video feeds are still working, we've tapped into them to trace the ones responsible."

At this news, the General relaxed even more. "Who are they?"

"Morgan and Campbell, sir."

Instantly, the rage returned. The Captain stepped back, out of the line of fire.

"Find them." His voice was hard, unrelenting, and suddenly the Captain wished he was anywhere than here. They were civilians. A scientist and a journalist. Really, how much harm could they cause? The computers were a minor irritation. Would be back up in a few hours. He was afraid the General the loosing his hold on sanity.

The Russian embassy was a mess. The security guard dead. How many more?

* * *

Jamie hefted the fireman's ax she'd found alongside one of the old hose scrolls attached to the wall. She hadn't been able to find the servers. But, she had found something almost as good. Electrical. And the door had been unlocked.

The room was dark. Beeps echoed in the tiny space. Lights blinked. Red. Green. Red. Green. A yellow light flickered in the corner.

Across the floor, a thick cable snaked. She traced it with her eyes as it split up and connected to each of the half-dozen generators filling the room.

"This better work."

Raising the ax, she straddled the cable and dropped her arms.

* * *

Mitch ran. The animals were gaining on him. That German Shepherd? He was sure it had eyes, and teeth, only for him. Really, what had he done to it. All he'd tried to do was cure the poor thing.

Screams bounced off the walls as he skidded toward an exit. He had to get to the garage and find Jamie.

* * *

"Where the hell did those animals come from?"

"Security, sub-basement 2. Now!"

"They're in the stairwell!"

"Move it, security! Split up. Sub 2 and Sub 3."

General Davies stood in the middle of the room. The Captain stood apart from him, but still within earshot. "Where are Campbell and Morgan?"

"We're looking, sir!"

"Look fa-"

All at once, every TV in the room blinked off. At the same time, so did all the lights. No flicker, no spit and hum. Just suddenly, pitch blackness everywhere.

"Now what?" General Davies demanded.

No one answered. No one had an answer.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Gunfire ricocheted around Mitch - splinters of wood flying in the air - as he slammed close the door to the stairwell behind him and raced up the stairs three at a time. Below him, he heard the door swing open and crack against the cement wall. He slowed his pace, hugging the outside edge of the stairwell as he looked ahead of him. He waited, listening. Were they moving up or down?

"Split up." A single voice, then two boot steps echoed, moving apart. Well, damn. He needed to stall the soldiers somehow.

Too bad this was basically a concrete tower, with each exit clearly marked and absolutely no hiding place. Once the one group hit bottom and didn't find him, then once again everyone would be after him. Didn't matter anyway, it only took one shot to bring him down.

The only option would be keeping as much distance between him and the soldiers. Great. He gave up on trying to remain quiet and once again took off. His pounding footsteps left no doubt as to where he was going. He was going up. He had to reach the garage level before the reached him, find Jamie, and then get them both the hell out of here and to safety.

The door to the garage was labeled G. Three floors above him. He counted down as he leaped past the doors. "Sub 1. Lobby. Garage." He shoved his shoulder hard against the door and fell a knee as the door gave way easily. Half-crawling from the stairwell he looked up and across the nearly empty lot. Not a lot of hiding opportunities here either.

In the farthest corner from him, he saw a collection of military jeeps, heavy, bagged tarps, a few larger transportation trucks, various barrels and cases, and a gunmetal gray shack. It was the best chance he had to evade the soldiers. He sprinted toward the nearest jeep.

Slipping behind the wheel, he crouched and peered under the front of the jeep right in time. A single soldier stepped from the stairwell, gun raised before him. Another followed him out. Mitch held his breath. No more. They split up, moving in opposite directions, away from the stairs. They moved slowly, confidently, checking under, then inside each vehicle, even looking over the edge of the concrete wall which edged the lot every few spaces, just in case he'd decided to hang by his fingertips.

"Who do they think I am?" He mumbled to himself. "I'm a scientist, not a ninja."

"Mitch?"

His name on her lips had him instantly reeling with gratitude. But there was no way she was here with him. This wasn't exactly the meeting point they'd decided on. "Great," he said to himself. Now he was hallucinating. He shook his head, refocusing on his immediate problem. The two gunmen moving ever closer. And he still had to find Jamie.

"Mitch?" This time, his name was accompanied by a small pebble hitting him in the cheek. Rolling his neck side to side, grimacing as a single vertebrae cracked, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Hey," was all she said. But it was enough. She was right there, crouched behind the corner of the shack. He snuck a peek back to the soldiers. They were still moving inexorably toward him and Jamie. If he moved now, they would certainly notice.

"Stay right there," he whispered back to her.

"You think?" she mouthed at him. Smirking, she rolled her wide eyes at him, and nodded. Then, she shuffled backward, hidden once again.

The first soldier out of the stairwell was the first to reach him. The second one was halfway down the far side of the garage, still checking each car he passed without fail. Moving opposite the soldier - crawling along on his hands and knees - as the man first checked the back of the jeep, pulling the cloth cover and peering inside, then moved forward to check the cab, Mitch knew what was coming next. A quick look under the chassis and he'd be discovered. He sat, sweating and panting, as close to the rear wheel well as he could.

He needed to move. Needed to find a better hiding spot.

A skittering of rocks drew the attention of the soldier away, over near his companion. The other soldier raised his weapon and motioned for Mitch's soldier to investigate while he would cover him. Having forgotten about him and his hiding place for the moment, Mitch seized the opportunity and raced around to the rear of the jeep, separating the cloth and climbing silently inside. Laying flat, Mitch took a shuddering breath for the first time in about five minutes, relief easing the rush of adrenaline pumping in his veins. He relaxed, gulping in deep breaths of metallic and oil-scented air.

Suddenly, a second figure also crawled into the flatbed of the jeep. In the brief spotlight of sun before the cloth slid back into place sending the rear of the jeep into blackness, he noticed auburn curls and storm-blue eyes.

"Jamie?"

"Who else," she sarcastically responded as she shifted in the tiny space between him and the large case shoved up against the cab of the jeep. "Now what?"

"Now, we wait until they leave."

"Where?" she asked, then added, "and then?" She was still moving around, looking for somewhere to settle. Quietly, but how long would that last? He could hear the irritation in her voice and imagined the frown she was tossing in his direction. It was more than his lack of a plan. His large frame was taking up most of the available space.

"On top of me?" He smirked, even though she couldn't see him.

"Really?"

Mitch shrugged in the darkness, the briefest of smiles crossing his lips before she stepped on his leg.


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

A half-hour passed, Jamie's weight resting on Mitch's chest. The noise of the soldiers had long since passed and died away. They were still too scared to move. Her chin was tucked into the curve of his neck. Every breath she took was him. The beat of his heart pounded in rhythm with hers. Every breath lifted her. She rocked with him as though a boat on the ocean. Her arms and hands bracketed his waist. Her legs rested alongside his. His own arms were wrapped across her back. His nose, buried in the hair behind her ear.

This was torture.

"We need to talk," she finally whispered into the skin of his neck. Her voice sounded far too loud in the empty space after such prolonged silence.

"About what?" His voice was gruff, vibrating under her ear.

"Us. You and me." One of her arms lifted, gesturing beside them at each of them in turn.

"Last time we tried that, it didn't end so well." He tapped a finger on her back. She huffed. "I believe your final word on the subject was to move on."

"I shouldn't have said that." She lapsed into silence. She had no comeback. It hadn't been her finest moment.

He broke the lull first, "Is that what you really want?" She couldn't help but hear a sense of desperation in his tone. Eagerness. Hope. Oh, God, how she had hurt him. Guilt welled inside her.

She had initiated the kiss on the plane and he had responded, quicker and with more desire than she had dared imagined. Then all hell had broken loose. Now, well, she wasn't even sure they could pick up the pieces and start over, let alone pick up where they'd left off.

But, yet, here they were once again, working together, saving the world, and in each other's arms. It felt right.

"No." Her voice was soft. She hesitated. "Yes."

"I don't know how to take that."

Honestly, neither did she. She needed to make up her own mind. Risk the pain of never knowing or the hurt of having it all go south, like every other one of her relationships. "Nevermind," she finally mumbled.

"I'll be here once you decide."

But, for how long?

* * *

In the quiet of the jeep, between the beats of his and her heart, all he heard were Allison's parting words - a threat - and Jamie's hesitation echoing through his head all his worst fears about himself. He wasn't the acquired taste he'd once told Jamie, but a poisoned berry. He hurt everyone close to him. Perhaps she was better without him pining away for her.

Now was not the time, though, for him to fall back into that well of self-despair. He needed a bottle of scotch to drown in first.

"I think we're good." Mitch shifted Jamie off of him and rolled away from her, sliding her down onto the bed of the jeep. It had been another half-hour at least. "I'll take a look around." Moving to his hands and knees, he crawled toward the rear, careful of squishing her. With an exhaled whoosh, he shook his head and stuck it out between the slit in the cloth cover. Half expecting to be blown away, it took him a few seconds to realize he was still alive.

He shoved his shoulders through, too, waited, then took a more serious look across the garage lot. They were alone.

"The coast is clear." He looked back inside at her. She had rolled onto her side, propped up on an elbow, knees pulled up, curled almost into a ball. She looked miserable.

"Wonderful. However, we're still on the upper level. How are we going to get out of here? Clear or not, I don't think we will make it down another level and out the gate without drawing some attention." And she sounded even more depressed.

He pointed at her. Gave her a sideways smirk. "You've got a point. We need a distraction."

"Thought that was supposed to be the animals."

"Yeah. Me, too." Draping the military drab cloth back a bit, allowing the late afternoon sun to lighten the interior of the jeep's bed, he removed his glasses, holding one earpiece between his lips as he ruffled his hair and stroked his stubbled cheeks. "We need another one."

He glanced at the case above Jamie's head. It had a lock but didn't appear to actually be locked. Hard plastic, about the length of a human body and a foot and half deep, he guessed it contained some kind of weapon or weapons.

Sliding his glasses back onto his nose, he gave the case another once-over, then crouching low shuffled back to it, this time reaching for the lid.

"What are you doing?" She'd sat upright a bit, obviously curious.

"Looking for another idea." He smiled down at her and bounced his eyebrows. Her lips softened in response.

The lid opened easily - he was right, someone had forgotten to lock the thing - and he peered inside. A layer of gray foam covered something rather large and bulky. He lifted a corner of the foam.

"Oh."

"What did you find?"

"Come see." He dropped a hand to her shoulder and gripped it, yanking slightly, until she moved up beside him. His eyes never left the inside of the case. He needed her to see what he did. To tell him he was wrong and this was not what he thought it was.

"What is that?" She sucked in her breath, "a bomb?"

Damn, he was right. He nodded sullenly.

"Why-"

"No clue." He looked across at her, tried to play off the proof in front of them. "Maybe there's a good reason."

"Yeah. Like he doesn't just want to poison the animals and two million people, but wants to take out the government?" She met his eyes and held them, trapped in a grim reality. "So. What? Are we going to set off a bomb?"

He didn't want to. "We need a distraction."

"A bomb."

"You keep saying that."

"I thought you didn't want to kill Davies."

"I don't want to kill anyone." Something in those words made her flinch as he said it. He saw the way her features twisted, ugly and painful, and the effort it took for her blink it away and set her features right again. It was brief, but he'd never forget it. "Plans change."

"Okay. We're going to set off a bomb." The smile she gave him was sincere, yet he didn't believe it.

"No. I'm going to set off a bomb. You are driving the getaway car."

The shock and anger suffusing her body, stiffening it in preparation for a fight made him chuckle.

"We are not splitting up."

Mitch faced her head on. With the hint of laughter still in his voice, he used his best professor voice to set her straight. There was only one way. "Yes, we are. We have to. It is the only way this is going to work."

"In theory…" she mimicked his go-to phrase. Did he really use it that often to convince the others to trust him? God, he hoped he was right.

"Yeah, in theory."

She glared at him for a solid minute, then turned away and stared down at the bed of the jeep. "I hate this."

"I know."


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

"Jamie…"

They stood outside the jeep, both staring at the bomb in the back of it. They'd been over the plan a handful of times. Neither liked the odds of this working, she less than he. There was a very strong chance he would either die in the blast or be captured by Davies.

"Yeah?" She bumped his shoulder with her own, half-heartedly.

"You remember what you have to do?"

"Yes, Doctor," she teased, trying very hard to lighten the mood. He was sounding more and more gloomy.

"Be careful."

Turning to face him, she placed a hand on his elbow, making him turn toward her as well. "You, too."

She wasn't sure when she'd first decided she was going to kiss him. Perhaps the geeky way he'd complimented her for teaching him to feel. Or was it when he thanked her for saving him - she still wasn't quite sure what he'd meant by that. No, she decided, it was when he'd clasped her hand back when she needed him the most. When death seemed imminent and there was no more hope except him.

This time, even more was at risk. It wasn't just a leopard. He was going to face down General Davies and an army for her, for the animals, for the world.

She still wasn't sure they were a good idea or not or even if she wanted to try again with him, but that no longer mattered. He needed to know how she felt, in her heart. Their brains could sort of the rest later on. And maybe he needed a little courage. A reason to have hope. Maybe she did, too.

For the second time in a year, she leaned across the space between them and, closing her eyes, she pressed her lips to his.

He spoke against her lips. "Wait."

Jamie pulled back, surprise and tender suffering suddenly filling in her wide eyes with wetness, her face crumpled under his rejection. She searched his face for a reason. He winced at what he saw in hers.

"No," he gulped. Cleared his throat. "Last time we kissed…"

She rocked back onto her feet. The moment passed. The grief remained.

"We were in a plane. Then it fell out of the sky," she interrupted. Her voice was hard. Emotionless. She wished it wasn't, but she had no idea how to feel again. Not right now. He'd said no.

Grimacing, a hand at his nape, rubbing, he answered the question she hadn't asked. "I thought I lost you. I've just got you back."

"So?" Where was he going with this? What did losing her have to do with their kiss? Then it hit her. "Oh, my God."

"Hey. Hey, hey." Raising both hands, he held them in front of him as though she were going to attack him, warding her off. He must have seen the understanding dawn in her eyes. If she weren't in love with him before, this realization might push her over the edge. A whole new side to the scientist. He was as scared as she was.

"Not this time, Mitch Morgan. Not this time." And with that, her saucy sarcasm returned. The wall she'd erected from his rejection crumbled - too hastily built to withstand what she'd just learned.

Huffing at her, his tone sour. "I'll meet you at G and 12th Street. You better be there." He hadn't meant for her to see through him. His hands were plunged deep in his jean pockets, shoulders hunched forward. His lab coat was abandoned alongside hers somewhere in the jeep's bed.

"Or what?" she threw back over her shoulder as she walked away. It was time to put this plan into action. Then, they would be on their own again and she was pretty certain she was ready to talk about them.

* * *

He watched her go. She got to the opposite side of the lot, took one more look back at him - he swore she smiled - peeked over the edge, then hopped up and over. He hoped she was right. Dangling by her fingertips, she had said it couldn't be that far of a drop to the ground. And if there were bushes… After all, she was a farm kid, she had jumped out of trees taller than a garage level.

Mitch counted to ten. No alarm, no gunfire. He continued counting to 60. Still nothing. She must have made it. The rest of this foolhardy plan depended on him drawing General Davies and the soldiers here. He began walking back toward the stairwell and into IADG headquarters.

Only then did he remember, he'd interrupted their kiss.

And how long had he wanted to kiss her? Well, he sure as hell had had thoughts of pulling her into that airplane bathroom before the turbulence hit and continued that first kiss. Then again when she'd put on her disguise. So at least a year. Shaking his head, he cursed at himself. He had been the one to pull away.

No matter what happened next, he was going to make that meet. She owed him a kiss. And he was damn sure going to collect.


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

General Davies squatted on the floor next to one of the refrigerated cabinets. The power was still off, the genetics lab lit by flashlight only. A puddle had formed around his boots, seeping from the edges of the open cabinet. On the floor a few feet away lay a Gila Monster, almost twice the size of a normal one, pock-marked with a dozen bullet holes, leaking what appeared to be greenish-yellow blood. Whatever it was, it smelled horrible.

Reaching up and behind him, he felt someone hand him two rubber gloves. Slipping those on, he reached into the cabinet and withdrew the twisted glass and melted plastic. What he'd at first assumed was water, was in fact what had once been the genetic DNA codes of at least thirty animal species.

After losing Morgan and Campbell, he'd dispatched the soldiers to help the security guards in reclaiming the science labs. It had taken an hour and three dozen men and women - the best trained on the planet - to find and kill all the escaped animals. Carnage had left three floors of the building streaked with blood.

If he believed in destiny, he would have thought this was some kind of karmic payback for the Embassy attack. As he didn't believe in destiny, he had instead brushed aside the uneasiness and moved forward toward finding those responsible and eliminating the threat.

The threat to all of their survival. As evidenced here.

He studied the glass and plastic closely, reading what he could of the labels. Ectecephala. Elach-. ...hiptereicus. He had no idea what he was looking at.

Looking back at the Gila Monster, he shook his head. They'd' found the lizard chewing slowly into and through this cabinet, eating, he only assumed, whatever it could just because it could. Davies refused to believe Oz and his father. The animals were not targeting humans and human technology. That was a foolish idea. "Hippies," he mumbled to himself.

There were two other cabinets already similarly destroyed. The entire bottom halves and test tube trays twisted and warped with acid.

"Venom," one of the soldiers nearing next to the Gila Monster said aloud, handing a swab off to another one. General Davies didn't care. Acid or venom, its effect was the same.

"Sir," Davies looked up as a Private entered the room, saluting him brusquely.

"Yes?" He stood slowly, balancing as he did, one knee cracking softly.

"We've found Morgan."

At last, good news. "Where?"

"He's just re-entered the stairwell from the garage. Has begun his descent to the lobby.

"And?" At that, the Private paused. He froze. He saw confusion, and a lot of fear, in the young man's eyes. General Davies continued, "Campbell?"

"No sign of her yet." The Private almost sighed with the words, glad to have an answer.

"Well, then, we'll have to settle for the pathologist. Get him and bring him here."

With a snap of his heels and another salute, the Private disappeared back into the hallway.

* * *

"He's running, sir!" The Captain striding alongside Davies shouted the update. He held a radio tight to his ear, trying desperately to make out the Private's words. Apparently, catching one middle-aged Veterinarian was proving a bit too tricky for the General's "elite" forces. In fact, as he thought about it, the whole day had gone from bad to worse because of two civilians. Civilians! Against the United States military. It was a damn shame!

"Where to?" Davies demanded as he grabbed the door to the stairwell and threw it back. One hinge broke off as it bounced against the cinderblock wall.

The Captain stopped at the threshold, relaying the question to the Private on the other end. "Where?" A static burst erupted from the radio and the Captain grimaced. He caught the General's eye. Davies lifted an eyebrow in question.

"Back to the upper lot of the garage."

"What the hell is he up to?" And with those words, the General climbed the stairs rapidly, the melted plastic and glass still in his hand. He was going to put an end to this day once and for all.

* * *

Mitch stood in front of the jeep, waiting. He debated about praying, then decided against it. God had rarely, if ever, been on his side. And already once today, he had his prayers answered. It was best not to irritate the divine. Instead, he offered a quick cosmic note to Jamie. She had better be waiting for him.

The door across the lot banged open, spewing forth - he was glad to note - General Davies, then a dozen more soldiers. Every soldier had his weapon raised, trained on him. The General led the little army straight toward him. Fingering the trigger he had in his pocket, Mitch waited until they were all within ten feet of him, spread out in a half-circle around him and the jeep.

"Stop right there," he shouted with much more bravado than he actually felt. He withdrew the bomb's trigger, holding it up high, finger poised over it, his palm open so they could all see what he had.

The soldiers froze. Davies smirked and took another step closer. "What do you think you are doing?"

"What does it look like?" Mitch responded to the General's smugness with his own snark.

"Where did you find a bomb?"

"Cracker Jack box."

The General cracked a smirk. "So, what? You're going to blow me up?"

"Thought about it."

"Gave up on your ridiculous search for a cure?" Mitch smirked back at him, saying nothing. "Decided violence was the only way?" General Davies took another step closer. "Going to kill to save the animals?"

"I'd back up if I were you." Waggling the trigger in his palm, Mitch cocked his head at it, his eyes never straying from Davies.

"Think you can save the animals and humanity?" The General's voice rose. Mitch heard the anger rising. Anger made men irritational - in thought and action. The game they played was getting serious.

"Why not?" He downplayed Davies' anger, adding more salt to his tone.

"Us versus them. The animals or humanity. It is too late to save us both."

Mitch shook his head.

"You failed once, professor. You had your chance!"

"So did you! We're not the only ones who failed!" Mitch felt his own anger rising. Testosterone was a tricky thing.

Davies paused, tilted his head and gave Mitch a considering glance. How much of the science did he know? What had he understood of Robert Oz's project? Mitch asked himself.

"This?" Davies extended the hand he had hidden behind his back. Mitch had thought it was a gun. It wasn't. Squinting at the strange item, Mitch at first couldn't figure out what he was being threatened with.

It wasn't a threat, per se. Finally piecing it together, the wad of red plastic and glinting fragments, Mitch laughed. He wondered what animal did it. Considering the mutations across the animal kingdom, it really could have been any of them.

"We were already doomed."

General Davies shook with rage at Mitch's flippant dismissal of the ruined test tubes

"You just destroyed humanity!"


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 _Author's Note: Considering how tonight goes, I do have one more chapter in my head I am willing to share. If tonight's Season 2 Finale is good, I'll finish this one before potentially writing more. However, if it goes all sour, there is a good chance I may be too overwhelmed to continue this story out. Keeping my fingers crossed._

Jamie jumped at the explosion. Buffeted as she was by another street and another building, it still sounded shockingly loud and deadly.

She began counting. Three minutes and she would drive away. He had three minutes to get to her.

Fingers tapping the steering wheel, eyes glued to the clock, mouth silently moving as she continued to count. Her heart raced faster and faster as he didn't immediately appear in her rearview mirror.

Two minutes.

She hoped General Davies was dead, bleeding out painfully on the concrete. Her foot began tapping as well. The knuckles of her other hand turned white as she gripped the gear shift.

One minute.

If Mitch died and Davies lived… Logan got off easy. So did Gwen. Shaffer felt nothing. He wouldn't. She would go after General Davies and his family. It was a promise she made herself.

30 seconds.

"Come on, come on," she begged.

Looking from the rearview mirror, she cast a quick look ahead of her just in case, he'd come the other direction, the longer way around. Nope. Nothing.

In the distance, sirens began to wail.

Her eyes flicked back to the rearview mirror. Still nothing. Time was out. Jamie closed her eyes. No. No. No.

The knock on her window scared her to death. She screamed.

"Go!" he shouted, sprinting around the front of the car she'd stolen. He ripped open the passenger door and climbed inside. She hadn't moved a muscle. Couldn't actually believe what she was seeing. He lived. "Go!" he repeated, his hand landing on hers on top of the shift and moving it into drive. "Now!"

Shaking her head, the ponytail down, the long wavy strands curtaining her face, she broke the trance and slammed her foot down on the gas. The tires squealed and car fishtailed as she pulled out into the minimal traffic and sped toward the beltway.

He was panting heavily beside her. His whole body was shaking.

Ahead of her, the light turned green and she passed through the empty intersection and onto the entrance ramp.

Mitch stared straight ahead.

"Are you okay?" she asked, more scared to ask than for him to answer. She needed to hear his voice.

He didn't answer her. "Take the next exit."

"Huh?" That wasn't part of the plan. They had decided to head to the airport and catch a flight on their own to South America. As far from General Davies and his reach as possible.

"Jackson used to live around here."

She glanced over at him, a slight shake to her head, eyes wide in a silent "and…"

"I know where he hid his extra key."

Well, she had to admit that was a better plan. Hiding under the enemy's nose always seemed to work in the movies. And a plane to South America? Even she would have been able to predict that move.

Jamie had never been happier Mitch was his intelligent, if smug and snarky self. They might just survive this horrific day and see tomorrow.

"Got it. Tell me where to go."

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up outside a run-down apartment building, definitely on the wrong side of the Metro tracks. If the Metro still ran, which she seriously doubted. Litter decorated the street. The decomposing skins of animals hung from windows. A warning? The stench of rotting flesh and feces hung in the air. Was this the kind of hell they had lived in while she slept in the wilderness? Maybe she hadn't had it so bad after all.

"Third floor. Too high for most of the animals to get in." Mitch told her as they exited the car. He looked a little better, though he hadn't much more than directions to her since rejoining her. "The first two floors are abandoned."

She nodded as he continued the tour.

"At first, he and Abe had lived together. Abe eventually moved out."

"Why?" She needed to keep him talking. With each word, she could see him returning to himself.

"Jackson lost it."

"Oh." She stood aside as Mitch shouldered the front door open. Trash had been piled against it from the inside. He helped her through, offering his hand.

"Became his father, if you can believe it."

Side-by-side, they climbed the stairs. The building was eerily silent. She shuddered.

"Where were you?"

"I…" he paused, stopped, slowing her with a large hand at her elbow. Jamie turned on the narrow step to face him, her face inches from his.

"What?"

"I was in Folsom." She stared at him dumbly, jaw falling loose. That, she had definitely not expected. "At your bar." Nodding because she had no idea what else to do or say, her heart about to rip from her chest. "Drinking myself unconscious every night so I wouldn't remember you in my dreams."

Her hand rose to cup his cheek. Her thumb traced across his skin. Her eyes searched his face. A flick of his eyes to her lips. Her tongue peeked out and wet them. He followed the movement. He groaned. His hands went around her waist, pulled her forward. She fell out of balance and off the step. He caught her.

And they kissed.


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 _Author's Note: Well, that finale did not go as I had hoped or planned. But, thanks to Tiger21206 and a few words of encouragement, I am going to work with what the writers' have left us and create some, I hope, pretty good guesses at what's gone down and what's about to happen next. I am also going to back up some and fill in some gaps from this season. For now, this story is complete._

Mitch didn't want to let go of her. Her taste, her smell, her touch. He hadn't meant to kiss her. Not here. He had decided to get into Jackson's apartment first, where they were safe. Where they could talk without fear, without interruption. Not that he really wanted to talk this - whatever it was between them - out, but at least she'd have the opportunity to re-start what she'd started in the jeep. On her own time. As he found them something to eat. Somewhere warm to sleep.

He already knew where he stood regarding them. He loved her. Didn't much matter to him whether or not she felt the same way. He was going to continue loving her. Loved her when he thought she was dead. Loved her when she returned - and flirted - with Logan. Loved her when she shut his love down. Loved her even as he'd made out with Allison - imagining it was her instead of his ex - at the lowest point in his life. As much as he loved Clem. And, like Clem he would protect her and save her every chance he got, whether or not she wanted it.

But then, he'd gone and brought up the past. Jackson's past. Abe's past. And she'd asked about his. Whether it was the shock of the explosion, his last thought before he'd pressed the button, or the certainty that he wasn't going to make it that had lowered his walls and made him say what he'd said, he wasn't sure. Nor was he going to overanalyze it.

This was right. Her lips on his. His hands on her. Her body flush, warm against him.

"Mitch," she moaned, breaking the kiss to gasp for air.

He leaned back as well. "We need to get somewhere safe." He glanced toward the broken window at the top of the landing. The sun was setting. Soon the animals would come back out, drawn by their scent.

"Right." She bent her knees and collapsed to the step beneath her. He eased her down. "Just a moment."

He knew how she felt. He felt it, too. That kiss on the plane hadn't come close to this one. His body was humming with energy, his mind clearer than it had been in a long while.

"Come on," he offered her his hand and when she placed her palm in his, he hauled her to her feet and dragged her up the final flight of stairs to the third floor. Jackson's apartment was at the end of the hallway. Stopping before a door covered with a thick layer of dust, Mitch grinned at Jamie, reached up and slid his finger along the doorframe, knocking a small key off the ledge. She caught it.

Taking it from her, he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. Shutting it firmly, he relocked the door and hit the light switch. No power.

"Well. Candles, then."

"Jackson has a stash of candles?" He heard the incredulity in her voice. Truth be told, he wasn't sure. But considering the likelihood of power outages in the last few months across every major city, the odds were good.

He shrugged at her. "Check the kitchen drawers."

She laughed as she began opening drawers and rifling through them.

* * *

They sat on the living room floor, the bare hardwood cool to the touch. The sofa futon had seen better days and though Mitch hadn't found any live animals living inside it, there were quite a few mummified and skeletonized remains. Luckily long past smelling. Between them sat the three candles they had managed to find stuffed in the back of one kitchen drawer and in a stand in the bathroom. Mitch was pretty certain that touch had been due to Chloe more than Jackson.

Empty paper plates were scattered around them. Everything in the fridge was rotten, so he'd had to scrummage through the cabinets finding a few packets of raw noodles, some rice, canned meat, and a can of tomatoes. Jamie had laughed - God, he was even in love with her laugh, wanting to hear it as often as possible - when he'd attempted to make spaghetti. He had been more surprised the water still worked.

Sitting back against the edge of the futon, Mitch studied her. Her eyes were closed, chin bowed to her chest. Her hair fell in a tangle around her delicate features, soft with relaxation. Her lips bowed in a gentle, knowing smile, her cheeks flushed a healthy pink. Perhaps the first time he'd seen her so calm. Even when he'd caught her napping on the plane, she had looked worn and drawn, angry all the time.

He hated to disrupt her now, but he had a question burning through his skull. It wasn't important, but now that they were safe, he had to know.

"Where? How? When did you learn to hotwire a car?"

She lifted her head and beamed, flashing him a smug look. "You noticed."

"That you stole a car? Yes. I'm only asking because based on the nature of our time together, I can think of at least two circumstances where that kind of knowledge would have been very useful."

"Well…" she drawled, a bare trace of her southern accent drifting out.

"Logan?" he guessed. Caraquet was sounding more and more, despite the tiny bits of information she said in passing, like part nightmare and part joyride. He hoped it had been more joyride than not, even if Logan had been on the ride instead of him, but in his darkest moments, he knew she'd had to face many more nightmares.

"I had him teach me."

He swallowed what he really wanted to say. "Guess he wasn't all bad. Next time I see him, remind me to thank him."

It wasn't funny. She snickered anyway. No one would be seeing him again. To thank the bastard or otherwise. With that dart to his chest and push into open space she had made sure.

* * *

Jamie lay with her head in his lap. It was morning, sunlight streaming through the window. There wasn't much of it, what with the heavy curtains and bars over the window, but still, it felt good on her cheek.

Mitch was reading, propped up against the seat of the sofa. His glasses balanced precariously on the tip of his nose. She tried to read the title but gave up after a few seconds. Something 'science' was all she could make out.

Smoothing her hands down her shirt, she tucked it in. The floor was colder than last night. Her fingers eased lower, slipping into a pocket.

"I have something for you."

He jumped at her voice, the glasses falling into the seam of the book. Putting the book down and picking up his glasses, he slipped them back into place. Grinning at her, he waited. She drew the small furry thing from her jeans and closing a fist over it, winked.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hand."

"What are you, five?" But, he did as she asked. Making sure his eyes were really closed, she dropped her gift into his palm.

Mitch peeked open an eye and studied the item on his open hand. "Uh? A rabbit foot. On a chain." He frowned at her, clearly lost on the reason. "Thanks."

"Put it in your pocket." At his uplifted brow and silent question, she added, "will balance out the bad luck of our kisses."

"I see." And he nodded, suddenly getting her meaning, though he didn't lose the frown. "I'm not supersti-"

She sat up abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth. Facing him, she was trying hard not to laugh. "Of course, I could be mistaken" She reached to grab it back. Instantly, his fingers closed over hers and he pulled it away from her, shoving the good luck charm deep into his pocket. He gave her a cocky grin in return.

"The birth of science was the death of superstition." His voice was light, full of amusement. She wanted to hear that tone from him much more often. It warmed her heart. She tilted her head at him, a half-smile on her lips.

"Thomas Huxley. A biologist."

"Of course." She knew how much he liked showing off his extensive knowledge in front of her. This time, however, she was prepared. "'But how much does it cost you to knock on wood?' Judith Viorst. Author and journalist."


End file.
